Chapter Five: Tethered Flames

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I felt her before I heard her.

She was walking down the east hall, soft steps muffled by the runner rug, carrying that scent—gods, that scent. Sunshine and secrets. I hadn’t slept in two nights. Not well. Not since she arrived. The bond was crawling under my skin, electrifying every nerve, dragging my instincts to the surface like claws tearing free of flesh.

I kept to the shadows, watching from the archway as she passed.

Her hoodie was swapped for a thin, white tee and worn jeans. Barefoot. Vulnerable. Beautiful. The wolf in me snarled, demanding I follow. Protect. Claim.

I shouldn’t have been there. I should’ve turned back. But I didn’t.

I followed her.

She moved like she was searching for something but didn’t know what. Fingers trailing along the walls. Glancing over her shoulder. The way she paused before the West Wing… the way her hand hovered near the door as if something on the other side whispered her name.

“Lily,” I said.

She jumped, spinning to face me.

“Jesus, you scared the hell out of me,” she said, breathless.

Her heart raced. I could hear it. Feel it.

“I could say the same.”

She tilted her head. “Why are you always watching me?”

I hesitated. “Because you’re in danger.”

“From what?”

I stepped closer. “From me.”

Her eyes widened. But she didn’t back away.

“Then why haven’t you hurt me?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

Instead, I reached for her. My hand found hers. That first full touch between us—flesh on flesh, no interruptions—was lightning in my blood.

Her lips parted. She gasped.

And the bond roared.

Every part of me flared to life. My wolf, my soul, my past—all of it surged toward her like a crashing tide. Her scent flooded my senses. My control shattered.

I cupped her face. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

She leaned in, trembling. “Then show me.”

My lips were inches from hers.

But I didn’t kiss her.

Not yet.

Instead, I touched her forehead to mine, breathing her in, letting the heat between us swirl like a storm about to break.

“You don’t belong to this world,” I whispered. “But you belong to me.”

Lily

Everything in me was vibrating.

I’d never been this close to someone and wanted it. Not like this. Not with this desperate ache that came from somewhere older than memory. His hands were on my waist now. Warm. Strong. Like they knew the shape of me already.

My chest rose and fell against his. Every breath we shared felt like fire.

But it wasn’t just want.

It was need.

Something ancient curled in my belly, whispering his name in a language I didn’t speak. Something primal. Feminine. Bound.

“Why me?” I asked.

He pressed his lips to my temple.

“Because I dreamed you before I ever saw you.”

I closed my eyes, swaying.

And then he was gone.

Just like that.

Vanished into the shadows, leaving behind only heat and hunger and the ghost of a touch I would chase forever.

Later that night, I stood at the edge of the estate gardens. The air smelled like rain and ash. The sky churned.

I looked down at my palm. The one he held.

A faint symbol had appeared. A shimmer, barely there—like a crescent moon wrapped in thorns.

A mark.

His.

Mine.

The beginning.